


Hunger

by hereismyhappyplace



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Blood, Blood Drinking, M/M, Vampire!Iwaizumi, poor Iwaizumi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-26
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-12-20 05:38:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11914329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hereismyhappyplace/pseuds/hereismyhappyplace
Summary: Hunger seems like such a trivial thing until the sensation of starvation overcomes you.





	Hunger

**Author's Note:**

> Just posting stuff from my blog. I accept prompts and write stories based off of them so feel free to send me some! ♡
> 
> [You can find me here](https://here-is-my-happy-place.tumblr.com/)

Hunger seems like such a trivial thing until the sensation of starvation overcomes you. He can feel it, the pit growing in is stomach, ravenous and angry, absolutely begging for a feast he’d never be able to give— well…no, didn’t want to give was more accurate. He was starving but refused to eat; refused to fuel that demonic curse that had been forced upon him, consuming all of his life and kept his heart from ever beating again, refused to fall victim to his new nature, refused to drink the blood of—

“Iwa-chan…?” There’s a tentative knock on the door and his body goes rigid.

Iwaizumi sits up, legs sliding down almost lifelessly from where they’d been curled up against his chest, starting at the white paneling of the door in what can only be described as **terror**.

_Why are you here…?!_ His mind demands, but his body is a different story.

His body—instincts really—has him crawling towards the locked door on his hands and knees, the closer he gets the more he’s able to sense, to _smell,_ the person on the other side. His body pulsates when he can practically _hear_ the sound of blood pumping from the obviously living figure behind the door. His stomach lurches, his mouth waters, and it all comes to an abrupt stop when he hears, “Iwa-chan? Are you in there? Are you okay?”

The _concern_ lingering in his best friend’s tone is almost palpable and the fact a second ago he was almost ready to fling open that door and suck him dry like a box of juice make his whole body tremor, fear snaking around his core almost in a vice grip.

He’s pretty sure his stomach drops out of existence when he hears Oikawa say, “Iwa-chan…you need to come out and feed…”

His body just sort of falls over, knees dragging up until he was nothing but a shaking ball of a mess on the hardwood floor. He slams his eyes shut and covers his ears, begging, _pleading_ that he could somehow shut out his senses if he forced them closed long enough.

_Go away!_

He didn’t _want_ to feed; he didn’t _want_ to be forced to survive of the livelihood of another, to have to get his strength from stealing someone else’s. He didn’t care this was the only way for him to live—to survive. It would be better to never exist than to have to take one drop of blood from—

Iwaizumi’s nose twitches, a sudden metallic smell filling his nostrils. He can _hear_ it, even through his covering hands—

_drip drip drip drip drip_

He scrambles up, movements quick and clumsy, flying at the door with inhuman speed and would have almost pulled it off the hinges if he hadn’t regain his sense soon enough to think to unlock the bolt—put there as a precaution, mostly to keep others safe from _him—_ and swing the door fully, but carefully open instead.

Oikawa—innocent, selfless, beautiful Oikawa is standing behind it just as he expected, looking at him with tender eyes and a strained smile, concerned etched into every part of his face that Iwaizumi could see. He can still hear the rhythmic sound of blood dripping to the floor and when he looks down at his friend’s hand, he can understand why.

A large slash suddenly decorated what was usually perfect, unmarred flesh, blood oozing out of the wound in dribbles and falling to the ground into a would-be puddle. He eyes the red stain on the floor, Adam’s apple bobbing when he smells that distinctive smell once more and he can just picture gliding his tongue across the surface to drink up the spilled liquid, almost like…like some animal.

It’s tempting, it’s so ungodly tempting—he hasn’t eaten in _days_ it would be just so easy to submit to his hunger and consume—

Iwaizumi sucks in a deep breath.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” His voice is cold, purposefully indifferent. He sees the way Oikawa flinches at it, making his chest _clench._ He has to remind himself that this was for the best, _this was all for the best._

To his surprise, Oikawa doesn’t cower away back to his room like he wants him to. And to his horror he decides to quickly shove his bleeding palm towards his face, smearing the spilling liquid against his cheek as Iwaizumi turned his face to try and avoid.

The damage is done though, because the second the liquid touches him and the smell from it amplifies exponentially, a switch goes off in his brain and he just can’t stop it—

He can’t stop when he suddenly yanks Oikawa’s hand to his mouth so he can lap up all the rest of which has collected there, staining his mouth with that delicious, unforgiving red.

And he can’t stop when Oikawa makes a tiny sound, getting his attention enough that he can see the way the other boy bares his neck to him, crooking his head so that his pulse point was practically visible to Iwaizumi’s keen eyes. He watches, absolutely mesmerized as it beats incessantly—with a sign of life, a show of blood, a place for his next meal.

He descends without question, body pulsating with new found energy, already feeling twice his strength returned from that small little sip from the palm. He licks over his victim’s thrumming vein appreciatively, hardly hesitating before he opened his mouth wide and pierced through soft, milky flesh.

What finally grounds him in his quest to consume is that sudden, pain filled cry that echoes through the tiny space of the living room, bringing him to his senses enough that he could finally remember that this wasn’t just _anybody_ he was drinking from, it was _Oikawa_. Oikawa who’d willing left the safety of his room to come and check on him. Oikawa who willingly cut through his hand from the knife that Iwaizumi could now see among the blood soaked wood so that he could finally eat.

Oikawa who easily put his self into the arms of a vampire because he trusted Iwaizumi enough not to hurt him.

It’s enough to send Iwaizumi’s mind spinning full circle, feelings of extreme guilt etching its way all the way through the structures of his bones, but it’s not enough that he has the strength to pull from his neck, mouth eagerly sucking gulp full after gulp full of deliciously sweet blood into him.

He doesn’t even realizes he’s crying until Oikawa starts whispering soft, encouraging words to him. Petting his hair and holding him tightly, even when Iwaizumi can feel his fading strength in his now shaking limps.

Iwaizumi’s shaking too—probably never even stopped—just as bad if not worse than Oikawa with the way his emotions, his _humanity_ was attacking him with everything it had, telling him, _begging_ him, to let Oikawa _go_.

“S’okay Iwa-chan…as much as you need…take as much as you need…” Oikawa’s words slowly slur together with his thoughts, weak voice making Iwaizumi tremble even more.

Iwaizumi shuts his eyes tighter as his tears pour down faster, arms moving to cradle carefully around Oikawa’s slim frame, touches growing more and more gentle as he felt the boy slump more and more against him.

He’s not sure to whom, but with every fiber of his being he begins to pray; he prays that he can find the strength to pull off before it’s too late.

**Author's Note:**

> oops my finger slipped


End file.
